I packed lunches while the oven was still preheating for dinner

Dear Delyara, That is what my life feels like now — overlap as a permanent condition. Tomorrow arriving before today has finished. School entering the kitchen while dinner is still uncooked. The future always leaning into the room early, hand already out, already asking. I was spreading butter on bread, checking dates on yoghurt, trying to remember who currently hates cucumber and who has suddenly decided they want grapes every day, while also keeping one eye on the oven and one ear on the children arguing over something upstairs. It wasn’t dramatic. It was simply too layered. And I think that is what wears women down more than anyone understands — not only effort, but simultaneous effort. Life refusing to arrive in a line and instead insisting on entering the body all at once.